It's not like it matters right?
by BuffyAngel shipper for ever
Summary: Set in season 2 of btvs. In a graveyard between a certain evil vamp and his slayer


Disclamer: the usually stuff, none of characters mine, i don't own it... you get the drift. idea's mine though (had to take the credit)  
This is myy way of fixing joss's huge mistake!... see if you can guess who it is about (pretty darn obvious)

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"Once upon a time, isn't that how all stories are supposed to start?" you whisper to yourself as you silently pick your way around overturned headstones and crumbling marble angels that fill the old cemetery. "But this isn't some story, is it? It's just another night off pointless patrol, just another night of trying to convince my friends to go home before they get hurt, just another night of having to face _him_." 

Suddenly, a loud scream interrupts you from your musing. You freeze; desperately praying to what ever divine being that does exists that he won't attack yet, but the giggle that echoes around the graveyard mere seconds later makes you realise that it wasn't what you feared, it was just your friends laughing and joking around. "My god, are they trying to tell the whole town where we are? Why can't they just be serious for once?" you mutter under your breath, your voice thick with resentment. You suppose you should be angry with them, not resentful. But how can you be angry? They are the very incarnation of what you once where, the very thing that you wish you could be again.

The way one smile from the one they liked could make their world, or the way that one frown could rip it down; God, how you wish you could belong to that world! The world where you once fit in, where you could spend hours one the phone talking about the latest dance, or your latest crush or even jelly donuts. But you don't belong there any more, you haven't belonged there since _he_ turned evil. You can't see the point in talking with one friend for hours on end when you could be out their stopping _him_ from killing your others.

"Hey! What do you think?" one of your friends suddenly calls out to you, trying to prove that his idea about some pointless topic is better then the others. You don't really care, but they can't know that. It's better having friends then not having friends at all, even if they don't know the real you. The real you doesn't belong anywhere, only the part you play.

"Total agree with you. No doubt about it!" you laugh, as you slide back into your part; the part of the perfect teenager, the perfect daughter and the perfect friend. It's just a mask, but nobody ever see's more then they want to, so why would they think that there is more to you then they see. It doesn't matter that every time you slip the mask back on, you die a little bit more inside. "Hey did you guys here about the dance?"

"Yes, did you guys here about the dance?" came the mocking reply, from the very voice that haunts your worst nightmares.

You whispered for your friends to run as you spin around to face _him._ Even after all he's done to you, made you do, made you become, you still can't stop loving him. You still forget to breathe as you take in his sinfully beautiful features, his bottomless chocolate eyes and his flawless porcelain skin. But your not the girl you once were, your world doesn't rip down at one frown. "Piss of!" you snarl, as your fist shoots forward and connects with his nose in a sickening crunch.

He doesn't even flinch. "Now, now. Was that really necessary?" he seductively purrs, he's voice betraying none of the rage you know he feels. "I was just trying to be civilly, but hey! If you want to fight…" After savagely backhanding you to the ground, he sits on your hips and pins both your hands above your head in one of his. His free hand gently cups your cheek, where a bruise is rapidly forming. You flinch away from his touch, it reminds you too much of what he was like before he turned. You prefer it when he's mean.

"I want you to join me," he purrs. "I want you to come and be my bride."

You stare over his shoulder, into the night sky. It's always the same questions, every night. And every night you want go with him just that little bit more. But you can't, _no matter_ how much you want to. "I know," is the answer that you whisper, a tear slowly trickling down your cheek.

"They don't understand you, you know? They don't understand your darkness," he purrs, just like every other night.

"I know," you whisper again as a second and third tear joins the original in its journey.

"You don't belong here anymore, your so called _friends_ can't even see past your mask."

"I know."

"You still love me, no matter how much you don't want to. You_ want_ to be my bride."

"I know."

Before asking his final question, he licks of the tears that are now leaving small rivers down your cheeks. This action does nothing to stop your tears, if it does anything, it only increases them. "Will you come and be my bride?"

"I can't," you finally manage to choke out through the tears that are now streaming down your face, and you can feel another piece of you die inside. Oh gods you want to join him! You want to join him more than anything else in this world or any other, but you _can't,_ you _won't_. You _won't_ belong in his world of murderers, and lawyers and money and hate, you just _can't_ belong there.

"Not yet," he whispers, and it's the same answer he gives you every night. "But you know that with me you won't have to wear that mask, all I want is _you_."

"I know."

After crushing your lips in a brushing kiss, he stands up and smirks down at you. "Time to put you mask back on lover," he mocks, silently melting into the shadows.

As your friends rush over from their various hiding places, you brush of your tears and slide your mask back on. _They_ didn't hear anything, but then again they didn't really want to, so why would they? They just crowded around you, talking their pointless talk, unconsciously waiting for your mask to come back. Well we mustn't disappoint them, mustn't we? Isn't it better having friends then not having friends at all, even if they don't know the real you? The real you doesn't belong anywhere, only the part you play. So as you slide back into the role of the perfect teenager, perfect daughter, the perfect friend; as you put your mask back on, you die a little bit more inside. But it's not like it matter's, right?

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please review!!!!! gets down on knees and begs 


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